The Power of Dreams
by Jo05
Summary: Marguerite is caught in her dream ... but is it really a dream?


The Power Of Dreams  
  
By Janina  
  
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Marguerite, Roxton and the other characters*sigh* They belong to New Line and the rest. (Clarisse and Philip are mine). Oh, and no, I don't want to make profit with the story . I wish I could.  
  
Note: Yeah I did it again and wrote my second fic. The idea for the story came from the episode "London Calling" (sigh! I don't own this episode either) Enjoy . . .  
  
Thank you to all who have helped me with the story, particularly to the person who did the beta reading *Huuuuugs*  
  
* * *  
  
"George, how many more plants do you need?"  
  
Exhausted, Marguerite sat down on a rock. Questioningly, the dark-haired woman looked at the professor who apparently hadn't heard her.  
  
"Challenger! Did you hear me at all? George!"  
  
Torn out of his thoughts, the older man looked at Marguerite apologetically.  
  
"Marguerite, I'm sorry, I saw this impressive specimen. I have never seen such a beetle before."  
  
The heiress sighed and gave George a small smile.  
  
"George, can we leave the digression into the animal kingdom and devote ourselves back to the plants? I would like get back to the tree house, soon."  
  
With those words, Marguerite got up and continued her search. Challenger stayed behind. Suddenly he heard Marguerite scream.  
  
"Marguerite!"  
  
The professor reached for his gun and ran in the direction from which he had heard the shout.  
  
George found Marguerite on a clearing, encircled by natives with black and white body painting. Challenger fired his gun, aiming into the sky to avoid casualties. The shot showed the desired success, and the natives disappeared in the jungle. Too late, Challenger noticed that one attacker aimed his blowing pipe at Marguertie. The weapon released a small arrow that buried itself in her slender neck.  
  
"Oh my God, Marguerite!"  
  
With her last effort, the dark-haired woman stumbled toward, the older man before her legs caved in and she sank to the ground, unconscious.  
  
* * *  
  
Marguerite opened her eyes slowly, hesitatingly, and found herself, in a strange, dark room, with only the dim glow of a candle bathing the chamber in a gentle light.  
  
Slowly she got up and crossed the room on unsteady legs. Marguerite felt completely out of place, nothing looking familiar. She went to the big window and looked out.  
  
It was dark outside, but this darkness was different from what she had grown used to. It wasn't the plateau behind the window or anything she had expected. It looked like she was in England!  
  
Where was she?  
  
* * *  
  
In the meantime, the darkness had gushed in and painted the plateau a deep blue. When Challenger finally reached the electric fence, he still carried the motionless heiress on his arms.  
  
In the tree house, Veronica looked up from her book in surprise, as she heard the elevator set into motion. Seconds later, Challenger appeared in the living space with Marguerite's still form on his arms.  
  
"George, what happened?"  
  
Exhausted, the visionary carried the heiress to her room and laid her on her bed.  
  
"We were looking for plants, Marguerite was only a couple of meters in front of me . . . Then, suddenly, natives were there, everywhere . . . and one has hit her with a poisoned arrow.  
  
Worried, the blond haired woman put a hand on the shoulder of the man.  
  
"I have done everything I could out there, but the poison got into Marguerite's system too fast. We can only hope, that Marguerite is strong enough to fight against the poison."  
  
Excited voices had torn Lord Roxton out of his dreams, and he stepped into the room to find out what the commotion was about. What he saw there, froze the blood in his veins.  
  
* * *  
  
Without any sense of direction, Marguerite wandered through the dark room till she stopped in front of a door. Nervously, she put her hand on the door handle, and pushed. With a low squeak, the door opened and showed the way into an even darker corridor.  
  
The smell of burned wood climbed into Marguerite's nose as if a fire was blazing up in a chimney in one of the other rooms.  
  
From all appearances, the house was lived in, and behind any of these doors, the owners could be waiting. A shudder ran through Marguerite's body as she imagined what could happen to her.  
  
"Damnit, John, where are you when I need you ?"  
  
Gradually, her eyes got used to the darkness and she recognized a flight of stairs at the end of the corridor.  
  
"How the hell did I get here?"  
  
Carefully and silently, Marguerite went in toward the stairs. The parquet floor creaked under her steps. She had always liked this creaking sound, but now, Marguerite found this noise so dangerous and uncomfortable, and goose pimples to that a goose-flesh educated over her body.  
  
The heiress reached the curved stairs. She breathed in deeply once again before Marguerite started to climb down the steps.  
  
* * *  
  
There was a depressing silence in Marguerites room. The Lord had insisted to sit next to Marguerite's bed to watch over her, until she woke up. His fear of losing her was too deep.  
  
John seized her icecold hand and instinctively held it to his cheek.  
  
"Marguerite, don't leave me! I never could be without you."  
  
He looked into her face that seemed so pale and unreal. Sweat stood on her forehead, fine dark curls of her hair stuck at her temples. Suddenly Marguerites muscles cramped, and her flat breath accelerated.  
  
The small hand, still on Roxton's cheek, suddenly started to tremble.  
  
"Challenger!" the helpless hunter yelled.  
  
A few moments later, the professor appeared, followed by Malone and Veronica.  
  
"Marguerite suddenly cramped ... damned! George what is wrong with her?!" Challenger saw despair in his friend's eyes.  
  
"John, I suggest that you go outside with Malone, while I take care of Marguerite. Veronica will help me."  
  
Roxton wanted to protest but then gave in and accompanied Malone into the living space.  
  
* * *  
  
Once more, goose pimples formed on Marguerite's body. When she climbed the steps down into the dark first floor, it was almost like venturing into a dark hole. The dark-haired woman finally reached the end of the stairs.  
  
Moonlight broke through the windows of the big frontdoor and illuminated the middle of the room, letting it glow in a light ice blue glimmer.  
  
For a moment, the heiress stood at the foot of the stairs and tried to find her way in the strange surroundings. Marguerite just thought she was safe, when she had to learn differently.  
  
Suddenly The gentle sounds of Beethoven's symphony no.5 reached her ears. Marguerite could see a beam of light under a door only a few meters from her.  
  
Hastily and to put some distance between the light and herself, the dark- haired heiress drew back into the shadow. Suddenly, she heard the unmistakable click of a pistol when the safety is released.  
  
"What the hell are you doing in my house?"  
  
* * *  
  
Ned Malone and John Roxton sat in the living space of the tree house and waited for Veronica's and Challenger's return from Marguerites room.  
  
"I won't sit here for one more minute!" Nervously, the lord jumped off his chair and headed back to Marguerite's room. He had not covered much space, when Malone hastened after him and held him back.  
  
"John, you don't help Marguerite, if you disturb George during his examinations."  
  
Uncomprehendingly, Roxton looked at the younger man.  
  
"Sit down, John. I can believe that it is hard for you to see Marguerite so helpless, it isn't easy for us, either. Marguerite Krux is strong. She will be fine, be patient.  
  
In the heiress' room, Veronica imploringly looked at the professor. The dark-haired woman's condition hadn't changed.  
  
"It is very hard for me to admit, but this goes way beyond my knowledge of medicine. Veronica, do you remember whether something like that has happened before ?"  
  
The fair-haired woman sighed, and her look roamed through Marguerite's dimly lit room.  
  
"No, I have never seen anything like that."  
  
Suddenly, Veronica's look fell on a necklace with precious stones which the heiress had received from Assai.  
  
"George, you said that Marguerite was hit by a poisoned arrow".  
  
Challenger nodded.  
  
"The Zanga shaman knows a lot about arrow poisons. I will leave immediately to fetch him."  
  
When he heard steps approach the living space, Roxton jumped to his feet.  
  
"John, Challenger will come around to answer your questions. Now, I will leave for the Zanga village and ask the shaman for help."  
  
"I will accompany you," Malone said.  
  
After Veronica and Malone had left the tree house, the lord went back to Marguerite's room. There, he met Challenger, but neither said a word. George nodded at Roxton and left the room, while John sat down on the chair next to Marguerite's bed and seized her hand again.  
  
* * *  
  
Marguerite slowly focused on the person in the darkness who had spoken those words, but could recognize only the dark outlines of the shape.  
  
" I ask you once again ... What do you want in my house ?"  
  
When the figure came closer, Marguerite noticed the menacing flash of moonlight reflected by a pistol. She could now see that she faced a woman.  
  
"I . I don't know, " Marguerite answered.  
  
"What do you mean, you don't know!"  
  
The woman's voice now not only held anger but surprise and interest.  
  
"Go to the door on your left and enter the room".  
  
The heiress hesitantly went into the direction indicated. What would wait for her behind this door?  
  
* * *  
  
There was a depressing silence in Marguerite's room. Only the heiress' irregular breath could be heard. Motionless, Lord John Roxton sat next to her. He felt so small and helpless.  
  
The candle on the bedside table had almost burnt down and fought for the last oxygen. In few moments, it would be gone, but instead of getting up, exchange the candle for a new one, the lord stayed at Marguerite's side. He was lacking strength. Challenger appeared in the door and exchanged the candle, which immediately illuminated the room.  
  
"John, go to bed. You need to sleep. I will stay with Marguerite."  
  
The lord gave the professor with an empty look before he spoke:  
  
"Thanks, George, but I will stay with Marguerite".  
  
Again, Roxton looked at the pale dark-haired woman. The red-haired scientist recognized that John wouldn't change his mind and went back to his laboratory where he thought of his wife Jesse. How many hours had she already spent beside him after he had finally come home, exhausted from several days of searching in his laboratory. She never complained, glad to spend just a little time with him even if he was only sleeping.On the way and hoped of whole heart that she was well.  
  
* * *  
  
Marguerite grabbed the door handle and opened the heavy wooden door. The room was illuminated by candles and an open fire. The familiar smell of the burned wood entered her nose. Under different circumstances, Marguerite would have felt comfortable in these surroundings.  
  
The library's dark, old wooden shelves harboured hundreds of books, and the gramophone in the right corner played Beethoven's symphony.  
  
The two women were alone. Marguerite still hadn't been able to see the woman, who stood right behind her with the pistol in her hand.  
  
"Sit down on the chair over there," the woman ordered. "But don't try any tricks. I can handle a weapon very well and will not hesitate to make use of this one, either!"  
  
Marguerite did as she was told and sat down in a dark leather armchair close to the fireplace. She felt the warmth of the fire, but it wasn't able to warm her icy-cold hands.  
  
The heiress looked up and saw the woman for the first time.  
  
* * *  
  
Challenger went into Marguerite's room to look after her, but her condition hadn't changed. George saw to Roxton who had fallen asleep. His facial expression had lost nothing of the worry lines.  
  
The professor decided not to wake the lord. He checked Marguerite's temperature and dabbed the sweat on her forehead. Then, he went into the living room to wait for Veronica and Malone.  
  
The sun would rise within few hours and start a new day. He prayed it would bring help and rays of hope.  
  
* * *  
  
The woman who sat opposite the heiress now, was approximately in her late fifties. Her almost black hair, held in a knot, was streaked by fine gray strands. Her slim body and the self-confident attitude betrayed elegance and class.  
  
Marguerite could not find the courage to look the woman in the face, but her inner voice told her that she should look at her eyes.  
  
The heiress expected to look into dark eyes, instead she found out that they were green. How could this be? Why did this face and eyes seem so familiar?  
  
Not only was Marguerite confused, surprise washed over the woman's classically beautiful face including her stunning eyes, surrounded by tiny wrinkles.  
  
"Have we ever met?" the woman asked finally. Marguerite was sure never to have met this woman before, but something inside her said that it wasn't true.  
  
"No, I think we have never met. Otherwise I would remember," the heiress answered.  
  
Some of Marguerite's uneasiness faded when the older woman lowered the pistol, but still kept it handy.  
  
"You cannot convince me that you are not able to tell me, that you don't know, how you came into my house."  
  
By the helpless expression on Marguerite's face, the woman was convinced that the heiress really didn't know.  
  
* * *  
  
The first sunbeams conquered the way over the steep invincible mountain ranges of the plateau. Slowly, the sunlight replaced the dark veils of the night. In these moments, nobody would suspect the dangers and secrets that were hidden in this lost world.  
  
Lord John Roxton woke up from his restless sleep. He still felt exhausted, just like he had felt when he had fallen asleep in the evening before. The hunter usually enjoyed the peaceful moments in the tree house, before Challenger and the rest woke up. It was different this morning. Not even the warm sunbeams which crept over the balcony into the room could elicit a smile from Roxton. His look wandered toward Marguerite, and he wished, in this very moment, that Marguerite would open her eyes and smile at him. He would even prefer one of her biting comments to this terrible silence.  
  
"Marguerite, if you can hear me, please come back to me. Please, open your eyes, come back!"  
  
For many hours, the hunter had been sitting on the chair by the bed, waiting for the heiress to finally open her eyes. In the meantime, the sun had risen behind the mountain ranges, and the first bawls of dinosaurs and screeches of birds from the depths of the jungle. He felt still so helpless and empty. Just as he wanted to sit again, Challenger entered the room.  
  
"John, wait ... I want you to eat something to eat and there is fresh coffee and fruit in the kitchen."  
  
The younger man wanted to decline, but the professor didn't allow any objections.  
  
". you help neither Marguerite nor anybody else, if you don't think of yourself. I will stay with her as long as you are gone."  
  
Roxton's common sense fought against his feelings, but finally he turned round and left the room. Marguerite was in good hands with George Challenger, the lord was sure. Besides the feeling about the time and room, John simply had forgotten to eat something or drink. In the kitchen, he smelled the scent of the fresh coffee. Marguerite would be very pleased now. She hated mornings without a fresh brew. . The lord caught himself lost in his thoughts again. He looked at the coffee pot and had suddenly no more thirst. In spite of himself, he poured a cup and went back to Marguerite's room.  
  
At this moment, the elevator set into motion. Roxton stopped and waited for the new arrivals. Challenger appeared next to Roxton, when he was alerted by the noise of the elevator. Two pairs of eyes looked at the entrance of the elevator, spellbound.  
  
Veronica entered the tree house.  
  
"Veronica, could you find the shaman? Where is Malone?" the professor asked and stepped aside to let the fair-haired woman enter into the room.  
  
"Easy George . Ned and the shaman will arrive within few minutes. How is she?"  
  
Veronica looked from Challenger to Roxton, had he understood her at all? She had never seen him like this, he looked extremely tired and uncaring. All of them knew that Marguerite and John were close, but how close they were nobody could imagine. Veronica imagined how Ned would be like in a situation like this but she found it very difficult. George Challenger seized the word once more:  
  
"Marguerite's condition hasn't changed. I hope the shaman can help her."  
  
The young woman put her hand on the shoulder of the lord.  
  
"That is what we all hope."  
  
Once more, the elevator got into motion. A few moments later, the shaman, followed by Malone, entered the living space of the tree house.  
  
The shaman immediately asked to look at Marguerite, but before anybody could enter the room, the man blocked the entrance. In his language, he addressed Veronica who translated his words for her friends.  
  
"The shaman would like to remain alone with Marguerite in the room till he calls us to come," she explained.  
  
* * *  
  
Some rays of sunlight penetrated the curtains of the library into the tension filled room.  
  
"Well, till recently you were lost somewhere in South America, and suddenly, mysteriously, you are back in England. Difficult to understand for the human intellect," the older woman said, irony and sarcasm were easy to notice.  
  
"I also have a hard time understanding. I would prefer to sit in the tree house of the Laytons now, however ."  
  
A trace of surprise crossed the woman's impartial seeming face but it disappeared so fast as it came. However fleet, Marguerite did not fail to notice it.  
  
What was the reason for this surprised look? I said nothing that . the Layton tree house! shot through Marguerite's head. Perhaps this woman knows Veronica's parents. Perhaps there is a reason for everything that happened here?  
  
So many questions went through the heiress's head, but she kept them to herself. Marguerite looked up and saw that she was scrutinized by unfathomable eyes.  
  
What does this woman think right now?  
  
* * *  
  
In the meantime, the shaman was at Marguerite's bed and looked at her. A strange power, which prevented him to get into her mind, surrounded her. He knew, it was not alone the poison was not the only reason for the dark haired woman's condition.  
  
Marguerite could not remain in this condition for much longer, because the poison in her blood was dangerous. The shaman mumbled a couple of prayers and conjurations before he dribbled some drops of antidote into Marguerite's mouth. This should strengthen her body. The power around Marguerite confused him. Was it possible that the woman was connected with the plateau, more than everybody assumed? This, he decided, only the gods knew. To even think about this was forbidden to the shaman, therefore he accepted it.  
  
All he had to do now was to call the gods and ask for permission to send somebody to her, with whom she would come back into the real world.  
  
The shaman got up and left the room to talk to the people waiting outside.  
  
* * *  
  
After Veronica finished the translation of the shaman's words, it got quiet. Suddenly, the noises of the jungle seemed deafening. On purpose, the shaman had avoided to tell them about the power that surrounded Marguerite.  
  
Veronica looked at Malone. The shaman wanted John Roxton, who meant a lot to Marguerite, to bring her back. The wise man had done the same thing with her when Ned was caught in his dream. She had succeeded at that time, but it hadn't been easy. Hopefully, John would succeed. George broke the silence and said:  
  
"We all know what John means to Marguerite. I suggest, if there aren't any further questions, we shouldn't lose any more time."  
  
Everyone looked at the lord, who looked at all his friends. He nodded and went into Marguerite's room, one after the other his friends followed him.  
  
* * *  
  
In the meantime, the strange woman had opened the curtains and the library was filled with sunlight. The embers in the fireplace glowed, because she had forgotten to put new wood in it. Marguerite's pulse still beat irregularly and fast. She was impressed by this woman in front of her.  
  
"What do you intend to do with me? It isn't the best solution to sit abround here and scrutinize each other the whole time," Marguerite said quietly.  
  
The older woman thought a moment before she answered:  
  
"I will take the weapon away and get dressed. I don't expect any danger from you so I allow you to move around the house freely."  
  
Marguerite looked angry. Why did this woman show so much confidence in her suddenly?  
  
"Well . thanks, where does the confidence come from suddenly? I could betray your confidence in me any time."  
  
The woman got up and laughed, a laughter which Marguerite thought very pleasant.  
  
"You won't revolt against me. If I am mistaken, it does not matter. I am an expert at self defense, Marguerite."  
  
The heiress understood the underlying threat. However, why did the woman know her name? Marguerite was sure not to have mentioned it.  
  
"You know my name, would you tell me yours?"  
  
The woman stopped in the already open door and smiled.  
  
"My name is Clarisse." With these words Clarisse left the room, and Marguerite was alone.  
  
* * *  
  
Marguerite decided to walk around the house. It would have been easy to leave the house, but she was too fascinated and wanted to learn more about the mysterious woman. Why did Marguerite have the feeling that Clarisse could help her?  
  
The library was frequently used. Besides the smell of burned wood, the dark- haired woman noticed the faint smell of pipe tobacco. A corridor connected the library with a study, which also contained furniture made of dark wood. Some letters and papers lay on the ancient desk. There were also numerous books, many of in a foreign language. The dark-haired woman left these comfortable rooms, that radiated a certain masculinity.  
  
Marguerite took another look around, when she arrived at the big stairs. Then she inspected the other rooms in the first floor. The beautiful bright salon with a piano, the elegant dining-room, the comfortable rustic kitchen. Marguerite smiled as she came back to the stairs.  
  
John would certainly feel at home, there is surely a similar flair on his estate.  
  
The private rooms of Clarisse and her husband, Marguerite guessed, were located on the second floor. Back in the library, Clarisse expected Marguerite with tea for breakfast.  
  
"Well, you have finish your stroll. I assume you also have tea for breakfast," Clarisse said, and Marguerite nodded.  
  
"You have a very beautiful house, Clarisse." The older woman smiled and replied: "Thank you, this wasn't always so. There was a time when my husband and I lived in accommodations not fit to live in." She smiled but suddenly seemed thoughtful.  
  
Marguerite knew this thoughtful smile, because she had used it herself so often to hide her own feelings. None of the people had ever been aware of it, because they were far too busy with themselves to notice.  
  
"Your husband?" Marguerite asked.  
  
"Oh, my husband isn't present, and there is nobody, besides me. I don't need any staff, if I'm alone," the elegant woman replied.  
  
* * *  
  
A depressing silence filled the tree house. The whole group had assembled in Marguerite's room. Her breath still came irregularly and fever attacks shook Marguerite from time to time. She was extremely pale, but fortunately the cramps had stopped.  
  
Without saying a word, the residents of the tree house watched the shaman as he started to make the preparations for the ceremony. Strange, exotic smelling smoke rose from a bowl and floated through the room. The wise man spoke to his gods and asked for their permission to let the lord reach into the world of the dreams. The shaman finally gave Roxton the sign to lie down next to Marguerite.  
  
Lord Roxton did as he was told and seized her cold hand, then he closed his eyes and everything went dark around him.  
  
* * *  
  
Some time later, Clarisse and Marguerite had finished their breakfast. The older woman had been able to persuade Marguerite to go for a walk in the garden. The two women left the house by the terrace door. The odour of the late roses immediately surrounded Marguerite. The sun warmed her skin, there were no cries of the dinosaurs or dense jungle. The heiress sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.While Marguerite enjoyed these all but forgotten impressions, Clarisse watched her, smiling.  
  
Yes, that was exactly my reaction when Philip and I left South America and arrived in England, I never could forget the smell of the roses and the silence .  
  
Clarisse felt as connected with England as with South America . and the Plateau. Now, it was Marguerite who watched the older woman. This woman had surely already seen so many things, entered this garden hundreds times, but her eyes seemed to discover it time and again.  
  
How nice it would be to be able to call such a place"home", Marguerite thought.  
  
"Ready to start?" the elegant woman asked, and Marguerite nodded as her silent answer.  
  
"Clarisse, I have seen many books in different languages on my tour through your house ."  
  
"Oh, yes, my husband and I travel very much, but during the last few years not as much as before. Slowly, age seems to be catching up with us," the older woman laughed and continued: "We both are interested in other cultures and their languages, that is why you saw so many books. Sometimes . Oh, look! You have a wonderful view across the estate from here," the older woman said and pointed in direction of the house.  
  
Marguerite hadn't noticed that they were standing on a hill and a marvelous sight presented itself: the Victorian house with its red bricks, an avenue lined with big trees leading up to it and the adjacent stables and the beautiful garden.  
  
As a child, Marguerite had wanted to grow up in such a place, a home, a real family, but her dreams had not come true. She had always met with disapproval until she met Challenger, Summerlee, Veronica, Malone, . and John Roxton.  
  
John Roxton, what have you done to me? How did you make your words and touches go under my skin? I never wanted this, because I only cause everyone sorrow. Our feelings cannot have any future, and there cannot be a future for us. You don't deserve me and my past. Nevertheless, I would like to show you this and be with you all time.  
  
Subconsciously, Marguerite smiled while she thought of the Lord.  
  
* * *  
  
The shadows disappeared, and John Roxton slowly regained consciousness. This wasn't the plateau! And sudden the senses of the hunter came back completely. This wasn't the thick jungle, this was England.  
  
No, this isn't really England, it is a dream. But why is Marguerite in the country and not in London?  
  
* * *  
  
"Marguerite, tell me about the plateau and your adventures," Clarisse said after some time of silence. The heiress thought of the many events during these last three years.  
  
"Oh, there are terribly many adventures. Too much for my taste . Roxton would contradict me now ."  
  
Clarisse saw a glow in Marguerites eyes when she mentioned Roxton. The older lady was silent, and Marguerite started to tell her about the foundation, the expedition and some of her adventures. Clarisse listened to the stories of the dark-haired woman, captivated. So many memories rose in her, which she believed already forgotten.  
  
"Sometimes I wonder, why this happens to us. It almost seems so that everything happens for a purpose on this plateau. In my opinion, I could live without this very well," Marguerite said.  
  
Clarisse was still silent for a moment before she spoke: "Everything in this world has its meaning, Marguerite. All of us are in this world for a reason, to serve a purpose."  
  
The handsome woman made a short break to give Marguerite time to think about her words.  
  
"That you and the rest of the expedition are lost on this Plateau surely has a reason. Marguerite, don't see this as a punishment, see it as your destination." The heiress felt that Clarisse was hiding something important from her. "Time. time will bring light into your darkness. Remember, you are not alone," Clarisse finished.  
  
What does she hide from me? the heiress thought.  
  
In the meantime, the two women returned to the terrace. The older woman motioned Marguerite to sit down on the white rattan furniture. Clarisse excused herself, went into the house to prepare fresh tea and left Marguerite alone with her thoughts.  
  
* * *  
  
Without knowing why, Roxton walked up an avenue lined with trees. How many times had he followed driveways like this one to fulfill the duty befitting social standing in British society?  
  
The lord hoped that he could find Marguerite quickly and take her back to reality. The sun shone warmly through the treetops. He had always enjoyed these moments, letting the responsibilities go for a moment and feeling a piece of liberty on horseback.  
  
John saw an estate at the end of the avenue, and a strange feeling swept over the lord. As children, he and his brother William often had to accompany their parents on visits to their friends. John was sure to have seen and entered this estate before, but he couldn't remember the residents. He shook the head - No, this is only your imagination, John Roxton. Where to hell is Marguerite?  
  
He approached the house. Roxton tried to decide whether to knock at the front door or go around the house unnoticed. This decision was taken from him, when he heard women's voices from the direction of the garden, and one of the voices was as familiar to him as his own.  
  
* * *  
  
"You and your husband must be very happy with all the memories of those journeys." Marguerite said after a while.  
  
"Yes, we are. Well, we had a dark phase in our life, when we had to make a very difficult decision. We didn't have another choice, you must believe me, Marguerite!"  
  
A dark shade appeared in Clarisse's eyes. A wave of feelings overcame the heiress that made her put her hand on Clarisse's.  
  
"You said that you didn't have any other choice, whatever it was ." The dark-haired woman stopped abruptly when she heard someone shout her name.  
  
"Marguerite!" Immediately, her heart beat faster. "John," she whispered, jumped up and breathlessly met the hunter who had run to her and desperately gathered her in his strong arms. He mumbled a couple of incoherent words into her hair. After an exhilarating, reassuring moment, she looked into his eyes, then placed a fast, fast warm kiss on his soft lips. He smiled and released Marguerite from his embrace.  
  
Clarisse had watched the scene between Marguerite and Roxton and sighed. He loves her, and she loves him, but the two aren't sure of their feelings. Time, however, Clarisse clearly saw, will put everything together.  
  
Now, the lord noticed the other woman sitting in one of the white chairs. A strange feeling ran through him, but he ignored it when Marguerite seized his hand and led him to the group of chairs. In front of Clarisse, the heiress stopped and waited for John to stop next to her, before she said:  
  
"Clarisse, I would like to introduce Lord John Roxton. John - Clarisse."  
  
Clarisse gave the hunter a friendly smile.  
  
John Roxton .many years ago, that I have seen Richard Roxtons youngest son. I think he was six or seven years old at that time, when we had to leave England for such a long time. But I remember, at this time, he was more interested in his pony than in people. His father was a good man and friend .No, enough about thinking of the past, Clarisse!  
  
"Lord Roxton, I'm pleased to meet you. Marguerite already told me a lot about you and your adventures," the handsome woman said.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine. And 'John' is good enough. I don't much value titles."  
  
Marguerite looked from Roxton to Clarisse. It was obvious that they liked each other. Finally, the older woman stood and excused herself for a while. A fresh wind crossed the country, while Roxton and Marguerite waited on the terrace close to each other.  
  
"John, I'm so happy that you are here, but what took you so long to find me?" Marguerite asked quietly. Although her words were casually spoken, her heart had dictated them.  
  
"Apparently, you have fared well in my absence." John smiled but became serious suddenly and seized her hand.  
  
"I would give my life to find you. We were worried about you, and that is why we must leave now."  
  
On purpose, the lord did not tell Marguerite that Clarisse and these surroundings weren't real. As he looked around and felt the breeze on his skin, he himself would have a hard time to tell the difference between reality and dream. Clarisse stood in the terrace door, unnoticed by her visitors. She knew that now was the time to say good-bye.  
  
* * *  
  
The atmosphere hadn't changed in the tree house. Challenger and Malone sat in the living room and tried to occupy themselves. Ned wrote in his journal, while George read through the notes of the Laytons to search for a reason for Marguerite's condition.Veronica entered the room,and when the two men looked up, she only shook the head and sat down, sighing, next to the scientist.  
  
* * *  
  
In the meantime, Clarisse had joined the lord and the dark-haired woman on the terrace. Knowingly, she looked at Roxton. He and Marguerite got up, and Clarisse approached the heiress to hug her.  
  
"Will I ever see you again?"Marguerite asked quietly and was slightly surprised by the handsome woman's embrace. The older woman looked Marguerite in the face.  
  
"Yes."  
  
With this word, Clarisse turned away from Marguerite and looked at John.  
  
"Please, pay attention to Marguerite, she needs you more then she wants to admit," she whispered to the hunter.  
  
The hunter looked at Marguerite. Not only Marguerite needed him, he needed her, too. This didn't concern only Marguerite and John, everyone had welded together tightly during the last years. The heiress and the hunter swiftly said good-bye to Clarisse, who sat down on her chair again and looked at the two motionlessly, but her eyes spoke another language.  
  
* * *  
  
Marguerite stopped when they reached the avenue. The dark-haired woman was confused and asked John:  
  
"John, how shall we get home? We are in England and not in south America, aren't we? I don't understand all this any more ." she said.  
  
"Shhh . We will find a way. I have found away to find you. Trust me." the lord softly replied.  
  
With his last words, he seized Marguerite's hand and held it tightly. She trusted him and replied the pressure of his hand.  
  
"I trust you," she said very quietly.  
  
Suddenly, everything turned dark.  
  
* * *  
  
"Marguerite, wake up," he said softly.  
  
The lord lay close to the dark-haired woman, his head facing hers. It was hard for Marguerite to open her eyes, because the bright light blinded them. Very slowly, the world around became real and visible again. Then she felt John next to herself and turned her head around to look at him. She wanted to speak, but because of the aftereffects of the poison, she could not speak for a while.  
  
Gently, John put a finger on her lips, and she gave in, for the moment, aware that she needed a lot of rest. Marguerite saw him smile at her, but her eyelids closed against her will.  
  
We are at home again, she thought.  
  
* * *  
  
Hundreds of miles away, Clarisse woke up from her trance. The tall slim man who had sat in the shade of the room jumped to his feet and immediately sat down on the edge of the bed besides Clarisse.  
  
He was in his early sixties, his once black hair and the temples turned white. His beard was white only his moustache and eyebrows were still dark. The years and experience had deepened his marked features. Now, his dark eyes looked intensely to his wife. Clarisse sat up and hugged him. Tears ran over her usually self-controlled face.  
  
"Philip, I have seen her, have spoken to her - with her," she whispered at his cheek.  
  
The handsome woman told him about the expedition and that Marguerite lived in Abigail's and Tom's tree house.  
  
"She is so lovely, but she is so confused, she still knows nothing about herself at all. All the unanswered questions in her eyes, which I must not answer. The time will come to let her know everything."  
  
Lovingly, Philip kissed his wife on the forehead, she closed her eyes and continued:  
  
"She is on the right way - place and not alone, Richard Roxtons's youngest son - John. The two have actually met. You predicted it a long time ago . the two aren't sure of their feelings, yet." She smiled. "You will be very proud of our Marguerite, when we will finally meet again."  
  
She sighed and let her head sink to his shoulders.  
  
"I am already," he mumbled with his deep voice.  
  
* * *  
  
In the meantime, the others had heard of Marguerites recovery, and after Veronica and Malone had convinced themselves of Marguerite's condition, the two said goodbye to escort the shaman back to the Zanga village. Now, his help wasn't needed any more. They wanted to spend the night at Assai's place and return the next day.  
  
The darkness had fallen and with it the cries of the night birds returned, when Marguerite woke up from her dreamless sleep. Slowly, she felt better, the medicine which the shaman had given her before he left, seemed to work. The dark-haired woman remembered the short conversation with Challenger.  
  
The arrow poison must have been the reason for the incident with Clarisse. Was it really a dream? Apart from John, nobody knows what happened there. It is too real for a dream! But if George is right .I don't understand this!Where from should I know this woman? Which reason is behind all this? Still more unanswered questionsI wonder who can help me with them?  
  
Clarisse, Marguerite thought and she felt the first symptoms of an oncoming headaches. The heiress knew it would be best for her to sleep. The poison had weakened her badly, but Marguerite couldn't sleep. She let her gaze wander across the dimly illuminated, candlelit, room. It was completely dark where light was overcome by the shadow, almost unfathomably, she thought.  
  
* * *  
  
Some minutes later, the door to Marguerite's room was opened carefully. The glow of an oil lamp prepared Roxton's way as he entered the room. After Challenger has assured him that Marguerite would get well, he was able to get some hours of sleep. Despite his lack of sleep, he wanted to check on her and fight his still available inner restlessness for which there actually was no more reason.  
  
A small smile swirled about her lips, when Marguerite saw Roxton carefully coming into the room. He was barefoot, the suspenders hung down from his waistband, the blue shirt was carelessly tucked into his pants and his hair tousled.  
  
Does he suspects what he means to me? she thought.  
  
When Roxton saw that Marguerite looked at him and even smiled a little, the unrest disappeared. She was still very pale and seemed fragile, but her eyes promised the opposite. A sudden thought crossed his mind.  
  
Will she ever notice how important she is for me?  
  
"I'm sorry, I have woken you up." He said quietly.  
  
She sighed: "No, have been awake for a while."  
  
"You should go back to sleep. You need to rest, Marguerite," he said and turned to leave the room.  
  
"John ." She made a short break and waited until he came closer. "This wasn't a dream, it can't have been a dream." She sighed again. Roxton returned and sat down on the edge of the bed, even if Marguerite could not sit up.  
  
Roxton thought about this 'excursion' once again. Unlike Marguerite, he had only spent a short time at this place, but why did he know this house? It couldn't have been a dream . He looked at Marguerite.  
  
"I don't know, Marguerite." He hid his memory of the house on purpose, but he would tell to her about his memories sooner or later. "When we are back in London, we will search for the answer. You need to sleep now."  
  
Marguerite saw that he was right, but she was afraid to be caught in another strange 'dream' again.  
  
". Could you stay with me as long, till I have fallen asleep? I ."  
  
He gently stroked over her cheek. "Shh, you needn't explain. I'll stay with you."  
  
She smiled gratefully, leaned back and closed her eyes. The lord didn't move an inch from her side, while he listened to her breath getting calmer by the minute.  
  
The time, Marguerite . the time will answer our questions. John thought.  
  
End 


End file.
